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The Work and Waiting

As a new blogger, I knew I wanted to write and be read. And I wanted it all to happen right now. Happen naturally? Ha! Now, now, now with no waiting. And that tension of not believing I really could do it and wanting it now, served to deflate me instead of inspire me. My submissions were rejected, my site was not glamorous enough, and I just wasn’t narcissistic enough to perpetually fan the flames of fan-ship. Thankfully and eventually, I had enough sense to know this too would pass and I did keep writing because at least I knew practice would make me better. This blog was my living resume. And the constancy made me feel like I was still part of a process bigger than me. The work and the waiting on Shalavee.com

What I learned and continue to learn is that even in the quiet moments of just showing up, work is in fact being done. My regular contributions were proving I was reliable to myself and that I was resilient. I learned what I was truly in the long haul for my betterment. Sometimes this looks like connecting with others and myself and sometimes it looks like silence but it’s all hard work to re-see myself devoid of perfectionism. There’s a stubborn sustained single-mindedness that seems to show up and mirror my worth. It may even be slightly divine.The work and the waiting on Shalavee.com

When my doubt storms have finally quieted down, I have emerged victorious. I waited out my ego’s silliness and found myself still standing on the other side. Beautiful and flawed and human and in more awe of how hard life can be when we make it so. And knowing that sometimes, when we commit to taking our hands off of changing things and just letting them go instead, work will be done.

Our processes are personal to each of us. It takes as long as it takes. And we are so worth the wait.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your email box. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest  too. I am always practicing Intentional In-touchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

A Few Moments of Thought in the Bathroom

Our house is over one hundred years old. When you use the front upstairs bathroom in the middle of the house over the front door, you hear it groaning. I assume it’s the pipes but why they groan, I won’t know until the day something ruptures.

I’m in there to dye my very white hair roots. When we moved here I was dying my slightly gray and very short hair red. I’m totally gray now and have gone long and dark. As I’m doing the haphazard job I usually do to drown my head in chemicals, intermittently wiping my face and shirt where I’ve splattered hair dye, I see a bug flying around me. I swing at him and continue in the mirror and then I see something crawling on the sink.

So first I think how completely creepy it is for anything to be flying and then suddenly crawling like another beast completely. I consider squashing it because it’s freaked me out. And then I think about the times I’ve scolded my daughter for randomly offing offending ants on the front porch while saving pill bugs to torture. And I leave him alone.A Few Moments of Thought in the Bathroom on Shalavee.com

Hair dye has twenty minutes to cook. I sit down to work on something and think, why not just this exact piece of writing. Because so much mundane thoughts are exactly the place where people spend their thought time in. They do not spend their majority of time in their prettiest pictures or most smoothed over words but in random vitreous brain floater thoughts that float through barely noticed, shadows of fears and worries of life and love.

Seven more minutes to wait until I officially become a little younger. I pull back my skin on cheeks to remember what I looked like without these jowls twenty years ago. When I met Mark. Genetics gave me these jowls and this prematurely white hair. And it’s doling out still more surprises every year.Good thing my skin ages well.

I set my mind to not panic or apply it to how I’m a horrid aging person. I vow instead to follow the breadcrumbs of health and self-care. To make the next appointment necessary and the next and the next and follow through with taking every little pill and walk every mile. That is the only thing to be done. That and choosing to not squash a bug every once in a while.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your email box. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest  too. I am always practicing Intentional In-touchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

I Return to the Matter of Self-Value

I am always circling around to a question of my self-value. I stop short of setting goals or understanding my purpose for the simple fact that I do not understand my worth. I suspect I’m not alone in this either. So many women are waiting for permission to value themselves.

I picked up a self-development book by Rhonda Britten called Change Your Life in 30 Days, in which one of the daily tasks is to list five acknowledgements of things I’ve accomplished. And this seems to be a good task for refueling the self-value tank. So often, we would acknowledge anyone but ourselves for their contributions. But in crediting ourselves, we have actually added a value chip to our own pile. Continual practice of anything, “self-value-idation” included, will make you better at it. And I truly believe this is exactly where I need all my energy focused. I can’t truly contribute to the world unless I know the value of that contribution.

The next step for me will be to ask for validation from others. While my therapist says this is quite normal, the risk of being rejected and my value being refuted feels like a death wish. Definitely worth noting. But if writing is what I must do for the rest of my life, because the thought of not writing is now impossible, it seems a shame to waste my writing on only my ears. Might as well share it with an audience so that others may feel validated and inspired as well. Two for the price of one.I Return to the Matter of Self-Value on Shalavee.com

What I write is of meaning to me and I value the catharsis of the process. I’m endeavoring to increase my understanding of the value of my writing to know that what I write is everyone’s voice. Simple truths, Aha’s I find as I navigate my days are always of more soul value than any monetary worth. And by sharing them, I process and release them so that others may benefit from them as well.

So if you like what you have read, share it. Email a link to someone, share it on Facebook, or mark it to tell your sister-in-law about. Staying small and quiet has not truly ever benefited me. Nor am I a narcissistic megalomaniac who needs your approval to exist. But I have compassion for all those who feel isolated and alone and I don’t think this serves any one, surely not the next generation or the world. Our existence matters and we need to know it.

Perhaps you have a gift that you undervalue as well? Your thoughts are always appreciated here.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your email box. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest  too. I am always practicing Intentional In-touchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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